Now, I’m ambivalent about approaching this topic for I fear I will be climbing up the proverbial down escalator, but I’ve had this title, which I think is too brilliant to let go to waste, for a year now–so here goes:

Why so much ambivalence in approaching the topic of hairstyles, you may ask? After all, a press is the art of using a hot comb to apply a substantial amount of heat to the natural hair in order to temporarily change its curl pattern so that it will appear straight as long as there’s no undue amount of moisture present–in the air or on the person (sweat)–and a fade is a style worn by men as well as women, where the hair gradually goes from the height of an inch or so and fades to nothing.

But those of you who know me, know my love for analogies and metaphors. By now you know I’m not talking hairstyles. I’m talking relationships. 

The press ‘n’ fade exemplifies a particular relationship pattern I encounter over and over here on the Web. I’m talking about the brothers or sisters who make it a career to exercise their right to press ‘n’ fade when it comes to other people. (But since I’m a female, and this is my blog, Imma just straight talk about the brothers . . . lol.)

During the press phase, this brother applies a substantial amount of heat via, notes, e-mail, IM, texts, and/or phone convos that temporarily change the curl pattern of my everyday thoughts. He infiltrates the natural flow of my life. For maybe two weeks, three weeks, or even a month, there is no moisture in sight–no sight of reversion–and then out of nowhere, Fade Phase is in full effect. Texts suddenly don’t arrive, VM loses messages, notes don’t hit the inbox, e-mail is spam-infested, and the cell sports numerous interruptions from which a return call never comes. 

Granted: this is a make-busy world, and the average attention span is that of a gnat on a good day. However, where does common courtesy come in?

(K, now this is the part where I shoot myself in the foot, ’cause I have deliberately given some crazies and sex fiends the fade. No explanation, no response. By that admission, I’m saying that I’ve categorized who is deserving of my courtesy, and crazies and sex fiends fall short. But I don’t think this really disqualifies me from having this rant.)

Am I the only one frustrated enough to take note and want to actively hold folk accountable for their actions?

Or should I continue to go on as I’ve done before, taking the path of least resistance, saying all the wonderful things that we say–”good riddance” or “anyone who can walk away that easily, let ‘em go”–whilst inwardly wondering, was it something I said? Or is it something in his head? (Hey now, rhyming! hehehe) 

That approach has its pitfalls. I never called a particular brother to account, and then I heard that he went a little further with someone I knew and she was really hurting because of it. I don’t know if my holding him accountable would have helped her situation, yet, since I didn’t try, I’ll never know. That thought weighs on me.

There’s no good excuse for it for fading. I don’t consider myself a person who is hard to talk to (although I’m excitable and usually stuck on stupid, sense-of-humor-wise . . . I do have an analytical side, when I stand on one leg, tilt my head to the side, close one eye and squint the other, and I’m am able to look at both ends of the coin most days of the week–well, except for Mondays . . . they’re tough!). So why fade on me?

Every test I’ve ever taken to figure out what makes me tick has pointed to the fact that I am an idealist and always strive for fairness, which means I will always try to overcome my fears in order to protect the underdog or combat what is unfair or unjust. I will also see more than who you are: I will see the possibilities and encourage you toward that.

While the realist in me understands that life isn’t always fair (it wasn’t fair that Jesus had to go to the cross to justify me), a large part of me just can’t escape the hope that folks will deal fairly with each other in the little things as well as the big things.

And how do we deal with the faders when they resurface, ’cause 9/10 they do? Maybe they come back because I never ask, “Why?”, I just gracefully let their fading slide, no recriminations (not overtly anyways . . . lol). Some apologize; I accept. However, I’m cautious about allowing them back into my sphere.

Some wanna interact with no apology . . . total avoidance issue. Yanno, like in the soap operas when at the end of the season, the child is a year old, and the new season begins and the child is now a teenager, and we are expected to accept that incongruity without the blink of an eye. However, since I’m real big on apologies, the avoidance-motivated individual lasts about as long as it would take for me to have my next bout of insomnia (wherein I’m really vocal . . . hehehe.)

I guess the uphill part of the escalator is the forgiveness factor. If I want to be forgiven, I have to forgive, whether the fader asks for forgiveness or not, ’cause forgiveness is about me and not them. So I guess, after I rant and rave to my friends, I’ll be doing what I usually do: repenting and forgiving so that I may continue to live in physical health and in the wealth of His presence.

I also need to be more realistic in avoiding holding onto folk with possibilities that are not even close to being realized.

I am NOT a rehabilitation center of one–I need to realize it, embrace it, live it!

Thanks for riding along with me as I’ve had this little chat with me. Feel free to add your thoughts about the whole press ‘n’ fade issue and your coping mechanisms.

Peace,
Dee

(Originally posted 11/13/08 on my BlackPlanet blog)